Maybe it’s because I’ve been here before or maybe it’s because China is awesome in general but I am going to be sad to leave Beijing.
Getting here was a breeze! Hardly any waits at the borders. Only crossing China took a bit but that’s because they had to change the wheels on our train as the tracks are a different size than Russia and Mongolia. Hands down the most deluxe train I’ve ever been on (had a flushing toilet) and I had a nice cabin of English people (from London via Australia and New Zealand).
In Beijing, the chaos of the people and traffic disappears once you head down the neigbourhood streets that are made up of brick/cement compounds where 100s of people live. You need a haircut? It’s done on the street. You want to by a rabbit and a goldfish? It’s done on the street. Family dinner? It’s done on the street. The mix of old and new is crazy. Tiananmen Square now has 2 big screen TVs playing a movie promoting China - which gave me lots of new travel ideas. There is a tea shop run by a lady from Vancouver just two doors down from my hostel (in an ancient building). It’s a good thing I found this place at the end of the trip when I’ve run out of money! We had a good chat.
The number of bicycles has decreased. The amount of scooters and electric bicycles (and cars) has increased. The city has definely been cleaned up (possibly due to the Olympics) and when the smog gets too bad the government shoots something into the atmosphere to cause some rain/cloud and the next day the burning in your throat has disappeared and it’s clear skies!
At the cooking class today I learned how to make Szechwan beef, spicy green beans, tofu, 3- Cup chicken (awesome and “easy”) and fried lettuce. Possibly the best part of the lesson was the market tour. Bottom floor all types of vegetables, spices, fruit. Top floor allllllll types of meat. My guide laughed when I jumped and turned away from a lady who had just grabbed a live fish out of the “tank” and beat it to death with a mallet. Let’s just say the sheep slaughter was a good introduction and I managed not to get sick and! take lots of photos to share with everyone. And now I know that the prickly rag-looking things are in fact stomachs and not rags.
Last day in Irkutsk = a trip to Listvaynka. “Most” people go directly there instead of staying in Irkutsk because it is by the lake. So I imagined this place to be a nice little city - somewhat similar to the island. What I found was a sketchy fishing town with an aquarium that has seals playing the saxaphone.
Directions to the town were easy - “Just go to the bus station and get on the bus that says Listvaynka”. Done, no problem, I head off to the bus station. One thing to remember for next time - bus stations are sketchy (no matter where you are). Turns out Irkutsk has three different stations to buy tickets. None of them sold tickets for Listvaynka. After 30 minutes of harassing the ticket ladies, I was about to throw in the towel but pride prevailed and I asked one of the minibus hustlers where I could find a bus - “around the corner” was said with hand gestures and huffing. And he was right. Silly me for thinking a legitimate greyhound-type bus went there. 3 minivans were lined up with the signs I’d been looking for. A nice old man with silver teeth showed me to the next bus and I was off.
Listvaynka = souvenir market, BBQs, seals playing musical instruments and fishing.
I left for the train station in the middle of a thunderstorm which added to the trepidation of what train 362 would deliver (I hadn’t eaten dinner just in case). Good news on the reader board! The train was starting in Irkutsk (= clean and un-smelly). As everyone piled onto the train, more and more English was being spoken. My carriage was ALL foreigners. Which I later discovered why.
There were the Dutch couple (in my cabin), the American couple, some guys from London, two ladies from Malaysia, and the Scottish brothers who sounded like Sean Connery (and were his age too). We all got to talking - the usual, where have you been? Where did you start?, etc. the conversation then steered to the fact that we weren’t covering a lot of ground over the 30+ hours on the train, so why the long time? Two words: border crossing.
We pull into the Russian border station missing half of our train. Turns out the other carriages stayed at the previous stops we made. The train ladies tell us “No bathroom. 3 hours passport control.” It’s a nice day so we all get off the train and wait. 3 hours go by and nothing has happened except we’ve all got a tan and have found beer. Oh and our engine has left us. Leaving our one single train carriage on the track in the middle of station - we look like hostages. On the fourth hour the train ladies round us up and 2 janitor looking guys come on board looking for our departure cards - just looking, no taking. Then a little while later 5 border agents board the train: two checking passports, two collecting the passports into leather briefcases and one security guard. We are then left with no passports and no indication of what next. Time for more tanning and beer. A herd of rogue goats tear through the station - stopping to have their photo taken of course. Cows then pass through the station. It was starting to look like we’d be spending the night when we get rounded back onto the train, get our passports back and have our entire cabin taken apart - ceiling and all. Then we get an engine and we are on our way - 6 hours later.
The Russian borderline is tall chain-link fence, with barbed wire and looks electrically charged. Across the dirt road, the Mongolian borderline is a wooden fence with a wooden latch securing the door.
Yay we all made it to Mongolia! Kids are waving, people are happy, our train carriage is happy (and a little drunk?).
Our single carriage pulls into the Mongolian border crossing. 2.5 hours. Passport control. This isn’t fun anymore. Hangovers have kicked in, mosquitoes have arrived and we’ve been without a bathroom for the entire border crossing experience. To say that everyone is a little touchy is an understatement. But the train ladies are having a good ole time. They’ve smuggled some stuff over the border, have put on their civilian clothes and dark sunglasses and are now acting as money exchange agents - “You need Mongolian money? I take your Rubbles. Give you good rate.”
We finally get our passports back, get an engine (we had been left stranded by our Russian engine) and are back on the road - arriving in Ulan-Bator at 6 am. It’s hot and sunny (just wanted to rub it in a little) and the city is surrounded by large grassy hills.
Today I will be taking a course on proper etiquette/manners for traveling with a nomad family and then it’s off on a camel tomorrow morning for four days. Apparently the main dish in Mongolia is lamb or goat, and the alcohol of choice is fermented milk (“the cloudy stuff is only 10%, but the clear stuff is 40%”). Awesome.
It has been said that the train number indicates the speed and comfort of the train. The lower the number the better, the higher the number the worst. So when I noticed that my train number to Irkutsk was 340 (not 16 or 56 like the previous clean, spacious and air conditioned trains I’d experienced) I was a little skeptical of what the ride would entail. It was also when I noticed on the departures board that my train was coming from Moscow, which means this train had been going for DAYS already.
I opened my cabin door and walked into a Febreeze commercial - without the blindfold or the Febreeze. A cloud the smell of days old sweaty feet slapped me in the face as it wafted out of the cabin and left me keeled over wiping tears from my burning eyes. Ok fine that is a bit melodramatic. But there was some dry heaving. There were no niceties on this ride. Not a word was spoken between anyone in the cabin for 20 hours - headphones in the whole way. I spent most of the time in the hallway where there was a window that opened (slightly) which allowed me to maintain my stomach contents for the duration of the ride.
I stopped back into the cabin after an anticipated bird sighting on the horizon which ended up being two vultures feasting on a cow carcas. Siberian Serengeti. Good thing it wasn’t a goat. Turns out it was dinner time in the cabin for one guy. He got out his cup of noodles (what everyone eats on the trains), took off the wrapper and placed it on the table, peeling off the foil lid. He then proceeded to punch the bowl of noodles (fist down into the bowl) in an attempt to break up the noodles. This guy was the size (and smell) of a rugby player. His fist was the size of the bowl. These were not gentle punches. Cue onslaught of giggles trying to be disguised as coughing and having to exit the cabin before I exploded in laughter.
And I am now in Irkutsk. And showered.
On my last day in Krasnoyarsk, I thought “One full day in the middle of Siberia. What should I do (other than shop)?” Try to find the highest peak of course. Lonely Planet suggests that Stolby Nature Reserve is a must see when one finds themself in Krasnoyarsk. The park is full of karst formations and tall pillars of volcanic rock and is down this street, past another, by a hotel, down a dirt track for 7km then …. an alternative to the park is Takmak Stolby (5406 m - highest peak) at the Bobrovy Log ski resort. Decked out in “anti-tick” apparel I head off to the resort on the public bus (taxis are for suckers) with a written message for the ticket lady to tell me when to get off (thank you hotel concierge). The message brought some confusion but after 30 minutes I got a tap on the arm, a thumb signaling the door and I was off.
The ski resort has:
- two chairlifts
- two restaurants
- excellent washroom facilities
- bumper boats
- circus training apparatuses
- Beyonce singing “Sweet Dream/Beautiful Nightmare” mixed with euro-house dance tracks over the loud speaker
Across from the ski resort is a rural village. A creek separates the two. A family of goats hang out at the creek (score).
A chairlift and a 20 minute walk through the “taiga” gets you to the rock. 2 hours - I spent trying the figure how to get to the top without dying (includes tanning and feeding the chipmunk breaks). It was when I spotted a group of guys with full rock climbing harnesses and ropes coming down from the top that I realized I was a tad under prepared and that my “anti-tick” apparel wasn’t going to cut it. Ok no. That’s not when I realized. I followed their route and it was when I may have gotten into a predicament involving a thin piece of rock and a shear drop on both sides that I finally put an end to conquering the large red flag (am now getting the irony) at the top. So I made it to 5306 m (give or take) and I’m sure the view is just as awesome as from 100 metres higher (that’s what I’m telling myself). 360 degrees around middle Siberia: all of Krasnoyarsk and the mountain range (hills) that surround it. Awesome.
The farther east I get, the colder, cheaper and dirtier things are. Which is to be expected, although I am now supposed to be in the “Paris of Siberia” - it’s a stretch. Today’s highlight (so far - it’s still early) riding the tram (trolley) from the train station into town when an old lady gets on in full Russian old lady costume - heavy jacket, bulky worn out shoes and a colourful scarf tied around her head. She smiles at the lady (her friend) beside me showing a mouthful of gold teeth. Yes.
So I am in Russia. Here is what you need to know:
- Wine is not cheap here (comparable to Vancouver pricing if not more $$).
- Security is everywhere and important (?). Shopping malls require metal detectors in the entrance doors as do most buildings.
- Opera and ballet are a big deal.
- It is appropriate to wear 6 inch platform heels at all times, in fact, it is mandatory.
- Do not show any emotion to anything at anytime or anywhere and you will fit in just fine.
Moscow was interesting. Do NOT believe anyone if they tell you people speak english in Moscow (or Russia for that matter) because they are lying (I’ve been getting by on hand signals and head nods since I got here). My hotel/dorm room (which was nice and I would recommend) was located on Petrovka street right in the heart of Moscow’s “Yaletown”. I did not give my regards to the embalmed Lenin but I did pass by his tomb in Red Square while checking out the Basilica and Kremlin. A brief visit to the Armoury inside the Kremlin showed the jewels, knight’s armour, treasury and clothing of Russia’s historical empire which was pretty cool. They had carriages. Huge gold painted horse drawn carriages that belonged to the monarchy. Ok it was better than cool. The weather was 27 degrees (but feels like 40) and blue skies. Tanning outside the Kremlin happened.
On my last night I decided to go out for a nice dinner and have some wine. After a brief walk through the neighborhood, aka checking for menus that are in english, I found an Italian restaurant. Well. The cheapest bottle (yes I wrote bottle) was $80, so I settled for a glass (make that two at $16 apiece). The smoking in the restaurant nearly did me in but the white mushroom risotto was fabulous. After dinner I then went on a hunt for a corkscrew because why would liquor stores or grocery stores sell them? My mission failed and I ended up in a bad part of town without a corkscrew.
Last day in Moscow was a trip to Arabat which is the oldest street in Moscow (dates back to the 15th century) and is now tourist central for souvenirs, food (there was a Wendy’s), etc. I sucked up my pride and went to the Starbucks where the gentleman taking my order spoke English (hurray!). Seeing an opportunity I asked “Do you know where I can buy a corkscrew. Something to open wine?” Confusion crosses his face. Disappointment crosses mine.
“Um, ya, the souvenir store. You find one.” The mission is back on. I find the one and only souvenir store that’s open at 9 am. I leave with a Faberge egg charm (the wrong one I later found out) and a “Moscow” Leatherman knife that is painted camouflage and has a corkscrew (among other things).
In short, Moscow = no Putin sightings but! I did get a cute dress.
Train ride to Yekaterinburg was excellent. After a minor heart attack trying to find the right station (there are 3 in the same square) and me cursing the Cyrillic alphabet, I successfully made it on to my train. Had 3 VERY nice people in my cabin and am hoping this is the theme for the rest of the trip. One young man (20 ish) who spoke some English and taught me the ropes (where to find the toilet and hot water - not in the same area). He also bathed in Axe. And one couple in their 60s who took me on as their child after a mixed English/Russian (99% Russian with English head nods) conversation of where I was going and the shock/horror of me being on my own, let alone no one coming to meet me at the station.
When we arrived in Yekaterinburg the older man (Alexi) found the only English speaking person in the entire train station (no small feat, the poor guy was getting death glares from everyone) and they got me onto a public transit bus (minivan #31) with instructions for the driver (and lady sitting beside me) to tell me when to get off to get to my hotel. Which they did and here I am. I have a nice small room with an attached bath that doesn’t have hot water.
The weather is 30 degrees cooler than Moscow. I experienced -1 this morning. It is also light out 20 hours out of the day so as I write you at 9:30 pm the sun is still high in the sky.
Yekaterinburg is a “geological” town. Apparently this is where the first gold rush in the world happened and a famous tsar family (the Romanovs’) where killed. Anyways, tomorrow I am (hopefully if the guide company gets back to me!) off to climb one of the Ural mountains and visit the Europe-Asia border (where the continents collided and became one).
Tomorrow night it’s back on the train for two nights to Krasnoyarsk - officially into Siberia.
Dasvidanya
Bonjournio (?? Italian hello? - ok didn’t read lonely planet on train ride)
Well have successfully made it to Rome. The night train was pretty good, would do it again for sure. Epic adventure getting to the train station though … of course … because why would I do anything easy on this trip. Finding a taxi in Paris is a nightmare (understatement) so I metro’d it. Flights upon flights of stairs with a loaded suitcase, purse and backpack (evidently I shopped more that I thought). And the day I leave is the hottest day of the year, flash forward to me running through the train station in an effort to make the train on time (sweating bullets), only to be told that I am at the wrong station. Cue look of horror and fear. The poor information guy at the train station looked sad for me. But apparently it was only a 10 minute walk/run away, and after a double check at the departure time on my ticket, I had time to make it. On my way out of the station I see where all of the taxis are. So … I try in French … to persude a taxi to drive me to the station I am supposed to be at. No go. He points and says (in english) “Is just over there?”. He’s pointing down the street to a block of large buildings. So I run with gear in tow and make it to the smallest train station in the world. Squished in between buildings that was down the street, to the left, and up a huge flight of stairs.
My ticket got me into a 6 person cabin, which only had four until a late night stop in some French town close to the border, where a couple then completed the 6. Total = 4 americans, 1 arabic french african and me. We had all just been woken up, helped this pair set up their beds, etc and were just about to go back to sleep when the ticket checker came by and examined our tickets. He opens the door, floods the cabin with floresent lightning and starts asking for our tickets - by name. Cue Lady Gaga’s ‘Bad Romance’. “Ra ra la la la baaaadddd rooomaance”. We all look at each other in confusion, oh, wait hold on, the ticket checker’s (30 year old male) phone was ringing.
Italy so far is way different than Paris. The people are more laid back, things are dirty, people speak english and there are eurotrash outfits everywhere. Looks like my visa will be getting a rest - although I did find some good things for the next vegas trip :)!!
It is smoking hot here (understatement) and it seems like it will get hotter over night. I am staying (literally) right beside vatican city. It’s pretty crazy … just went for a quick walk about. The walls are huge and there are cameras every where - and the place is packed with tourists, travel groups and nuns. The B&B I’m in is run by a young Italian couple (she works, he manages the B&Bs), so they have been helpful in telling me where to go/what to do. The room is clean and about the size of my apartment in Paris.
I’ve picked up my Roma Pass (entry into museums, archeologicial sites, free transit, etc) so tomorrow should be eventful. Not sure if I will stay the full 4 nights here … it’s way too hot and the transit system is archaic (only two metro lines). Looking for an escape to the ocean somewhere. Will keep you guys posted.
